


Clouds on the horizon

by GingerBreton



Series: Vigilance:  The untold stories [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Drabble, F/M, One Shot Collection, Pre-Blight, Short One Shot, accompanies long fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 17:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18078002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerBreton/pseuds/GingerBreton
Summary: This is a one shot to accompany An Oncoming Storm (chapter one of the time for vigilance is over).Cailan considers the implications of that morning’s meeting with Duncan.





	Clouds on the horizon

The candle had burnt so low it was beginning to gutter, and still Cailan sat, pouring over the maps of southern Ferelden, with nothing but the gentle snores of his sleeping queen for company.  He had been awake since before dawn, having been roused by news of the arrival of Wardens at the palace.  His excitement had soon been quelled when he learnt of what had warranted their visit. 

There was a Blight, here in Ferelden.  His mind had been fogged with memories of all the stories he’d read as a boy; the famed Grey Wardens riding in to battle, facing down archdemons. Stories of their victories and sacrifice. 

But those were tales and this was reality.  He sat wracking his brain for as much detail of those old legends as he could muster.  From everything he’d read, the Wardens were essential.  No Blight had ever been stopped without them.  He understood Teyrn Loghain’s misgivings about allowing Orlesian Wardens into the country, after all, he had lived through the occupation and led the rebellion with his father, but it only made sense that more Wardens would give them a better chance at stopping the spread of the darkspawn.  Ever present in his mind was the thought that Ferelden had only seen thirty years of freedom since his father had driven out the Orlesians, and he’d be damned if he let his country end up like the blighted Anderfels. 

So, he had put his foot down – politely but firmly as they were in company. It didn’t matter what Loghain thought.  Yes, he was a hero, and his father’s most trusted advisor – not to mention his own father-in-law – but Cailan was king, and he was determined to give the Wardens whatever they needed to stamp out this threat before it was unleashed on the unsuspecting population.  The arguments during, and after, the meeting had been regrettable, but he was adamant that they would send their armies to the south. 

So here Cailan sat, eyes straining in the dim light, pushing markers around the maps he’d had brought to his chambers.  He’d never had to create battle strategies for a real war before, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been tutored in just that since he was a boy, and once he’d won Loghain around to the idea, there was no way they could fail. 

The words hung in his mind, being poured over by a small traitorous part of him that knew he was lying.   There was every reason they would fail.  Blights could take hundreds of years to defeat, leaving thousands dead and countries destroyed.  If he was truthful with himself, it was this thought that kept him awake that night, kept him pouring over the maps and trying to come up with contingency plan upon contingency plan.  There was too much at stake to not act, based solely on mistrust.  He would throw everything they had at this Blight, if only it would buy his people a little more time.   

“Come to bed.”

He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he’d not noticed Anora stir. She stood behind him, tired eyes pouring over the charts.  Despite her just waking, he could see her eyes sweeping over his plans, appraising them. It always astounded him how her mind could just snap awake like that.  She was almost impossible to catch off guard. 

She slid her arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his temple before adjusting one of his markers. 

“What do you think?”  His smile was tense, no matter how easy he tried to make it.

“I think…” She considered her words carefully.  She always considered everything carefully. “I think that I _wish_ my father was right, but that it’s too great a risk to do nothing.” 

He smiled.  This was the closest he’d get to her agreeing with him when it came to an argument between him and her father. 

“But most importantly, I think this can wait until morning.” 

She was right of course, and he let her steer him towards their bed, pausing only to blow out the candle.  He wouldn’t sleep well that night, his last waking thought were still of the strategies that swirled in his mind.  _Ostagar_. That was where they would make their stand.  That was where they would save Ferelden or die trying. 

**Author's Note:**

> I totally intended to write at the time of the original chapter, which was November… oops. Anyhoo, this was some Cailan drabble, because I love him and think he had a lot more going on upstairs than he is given credit for. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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